The Letter
by Hogibear92
Summary: In the deep unfortunate circumstances surrounding the love story of Ron and Hermione, they connect one final time before making a decision that could alter their lives. Mildly short. T for sexual content. Please review!


The Letter

Summary: In the deep unfortunate circumstances surrounding the love story of Ron and Hermione, they connect one final time before making a decision that could alter their lives. Mildly short. T for sexual content. Please review.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

The clock had just struck twelve times to alert us of the late hour, but still, in between his kisses and the feeling of his warm skin against my hand, my soul flew with every chime. His gentleness was favoring my weakened frame, and as his ran his hands through my body, I lost all control I would've possessed. I don't recall any words I spoke, but I know I spoke many in the heat of that moment. And as we finally parted from our time as one, and he slowly wrapped his arms around me one last time, I imprinted the feeling of his touch inside my heart.

I wrapped myself in my warm robe to stop myself from shivering, and I stopped purposefully in front of the window streaked with moonlight. He watched my body, a strong figure in the shining light of the love he had for me, and for that moment I was as bright as a star.

The fire inside his eyes burned my wishes as he kissed me once more, but I wouldn't allow myself the pleasure of giving into it. I crossed the threshold of his bedroom and made us a stout pot of tea, soaking in the aroma of the herbs and the caffeine that threatened to steal the taste of him on my lips. My lipstick stain the top of the warm cup and he let me, both wanting my mark imprinted on him as long as it could be. I left him at the table as I set the fireplace ablaze, its flames a burning example of the treachery of our love.

He came to me after the flames had warmed me, and slipped the silk of my robe off my fiery skin. His touch was an ice against my flames and I cried out in shock when his first hand came. He smiled, and laughed at my torture, and I loved that he loved it more then I did. He kissed every part of me, every living cell did not go without his lips across it, and when I finally couldn't handle the pain anymore, I silently covered myself and watched him from across the room.

He knew our fun was over, because the night was coming quick and time had become stolen from our hands. Instead of the rush he should've felt, he sprawled out in front of my legs, and let me run my fingers through his hair. The tears I felt were hardly relevant enough for my feelings, but he accepted them as they hit your cheek and mixed with his.

"I have to go back to him." Those were the first words I remember saying, and now, they seem so unimportant to state.

"My dad used to say, 'True love cannot be found where it truly does not exist, nor can it be hidden where it truly does.'"

"And what do you say?"

He didn't answer me right away, because he knew I was looking at him: his strong body, the flaming color of his hair, the intensity of his eyes that I could barely stand to meet. His chest, so soft and inviting, that protected his heart, which was the greatest part of him that I could ever wish to have.

"Ron…"

His stare found me, and I was engulfed in the blue sky that I soared in through in his eyes.

"I know this hurts you, I know…but I love you, and I have to say it aloud, just so I can be sure that I'm not dreaming."

He moved me closer, and stared at the ring on my finger as if it was a sign of hatred. "You can't do this now. Not after we've finally found each other. You must stay, Hermione."

Even as he stated these words, I knew he had given up the hope I would stay long ago. He had been missing for years, after the war he had been stolen away from the grasp of his family and I and only this last week had he returned. I cried when I got the call of his return, and swore to never seem him again. But I am, the night after my wedding.

"I never gave up hope for you," I cried, in his chest. He knew this, but I had to say it. "I was the only one-after six years, Ron, everyone thought you'd died. They said, 'Don't wait any longer, it's too late. Move on with your life.'"

"Do you love him?"

I winced, and began to tremble even under his arms. But I knew I had to answer. "Yes."

He kissed my temple. "Then go to him."

"In your world, with you, I'm so free. It frees me of every pain and weight in life. Who should I love, if not you? You, who openly invited me into this world of existence, the only world worth living in, and the only one I can't stay in now. You gave me your soul, every moment you were away, all two thousand, one hundred and ninety days I went without you, your soul only grew stronger in my mind."

He hushed me. "Please, don't go on…this hurts, Hermione."

"No, Ron, I have to. I thought every day you were away that I would have to know if you were thinking of me, if you missed and needed me, and when I can finally ask you that question I want no answer. Because I don't care if you didn't love me the years you were away, or if you didn't before or even if you don't now. Because my love is so unconditionally absolute in my mind that nothing can change it. Ron, my love-"

"Will never have a happy ending," he said. "Hermione, true poets don't release their words with a pen. True poets release it with love from their hearts. You've made me a poet with every time I think of you, and every wish I have to touch your skin. You've made me yours with you in my soul. I know now, as I knew then and as I'll know forever that I could never have another. And that's why you must go now, Hermione, before I keep you here. If you stay here a moment longer, I won't let you go."

I looked up at him with wonder, and spoke the only right reply. "What if I don't want you to?"

I shivered all the way home, in my thin dress that reminded me of him as he held the material between his finger tips, and kissed the neckline against my skin. I looked at my hands that I saw caressing his skin as I thought of my internal refusal to touch my mouth, in fear that his part on my body might be erased. I knew even as I thought this that it never would be. In that car, with all the windows down and my face not even centered on the road, but in my rearview mirror at what I had left behind that road, I knew I had made my decision.

I wrote you this letter, Bill, to let you know that I did love you, but I never stopped loving the man that held every part of me with him. That is the man that I am forever one, and the man that I will always be true to. After the war against Voldemort, when he was abducted for six years, I never forgave myself for not protecting him. Now, I have all of my life to make up for it. You are a wonderful man Bill, and will make the perfect husband for one very fortunate woman, but I've never left mine and I never will.

Yours Sincerely,

Mrs. Ron Weasley


End file.
